Before We Began: Guinevere
by Lady Anon
Summary: Gwen tells us the story of her, Arthur, and Morgana, before Merlin came and changed their lives.
1. Chapter 1

After I bothered her to no end, my aunt told me of the night I was born. After all, she was there. I considered it her duty to tell me what she remembered. This is what she told me.

It was warm that night; she said she could see the stars through the window, twinkling at her (my aunt was no poet; I embellished the story slightly). The midwife that also witnessed my birth was old and gnarled with trembling hands, leaving my aunt to do the dirty work (she was rather bitter when she said this, I might add). Just as she handed me to my mother (a beautiful golden haired woman, with eyes like the afternoon sky, as I imagined she was through my childhood. Really it didn't make sense, I had dark hair and eyes and everyone said I looked like her), there were shouts in the street. "The Queen has had a boy! Long live the Prince! Long live the Prince of Camelot!"

"Long live my girl. She is equal to any prince." My mother had whispered.

Queen Igraine died that night; bleed out, the rumours said. Just before she did though, she named the little prince. Arthur. Prince Arthur Pendragon. My mother fell ill with fever, infection, and died within the week. She was either delirious or asleep up until her death so she never gave me a name.

When she died my father stared at her bed for a week, too deep in grieving to hear me squall. He finally noticed me in the corner, starving. I was done screaming, too weak to even cry. He sent me away to live with his sister, my aunt. He died that year, from illness brought on from lack of food and lack of will to live. I was orphaned before I was two.

I grew up in a small house with too many occupants. My uncle was a baker but we didn't eat as well as one might think. The money he made wasn't enough; there were too many mouths to feed. My aunt decided that they were having enough trouble feeding their own children. I listened through the door as she told my uncle that they were sending me to live with my mother's brother.

At the age of four I was packed up once more and sent to live with yet another relative. I didn't care. I didn't like being hungry anymore than they did, and I hated my cousins. They told me that I wasn't worth anything because my parents didn't want me. "They're dead!" I screamed at them. "It wasn't their fault!" Still, their taunts burned me.

Luckily, my other uncle, a blacksmith, was much better prepared to take in an orphan. His wife was unable to have children, so they accepted me as their own. I was, in truth, their little girl, whether they conceived me or not.

I remember the year I was six, a lady came to court. She was to be the king's ward. Lady Morgana, they called her; gossip said that she was five, a year younger than me, and that she was an orphan too. I felt an instant connection to this noble girl that I had never met. She knew loss, and she knew what it was like to have no one want you so that you're forced to move around. When people began shouting that she had arrived, I ran out to the streets, desperate to see her.

I was pushed into a gutter and almost stepped on, but I didn't care because there she was with and escort of guards and the king himself. I cared nothing for them, although someone started up a cry of "The King! The King!" No, my eyes were drawn to the child seated majestically upon a white mare. She had long black hair held back from her face by a red ribbon, and she was dressed in the finest clothes I had ever seen. She smiled at the crowd, but her eye met mine and she smiled a special smile, one just for me.

"Lady Morgana!" I cried with all of the might in my six-year-old lungs. "Lady Morgana!" She reined in her horse to the protests of her guards. I pushed forward as she bent down to speak.

"What is your name?" She asked.

"Guinevere." I replied breathlessly. Up close she was stunning, even at five years old.

"Guinevere, you have given me the best welcome I could have asked for. This is for you." She pulled the ribbon from her ebony locks and handed it to me. I cradled it in my grubby fingers. It was far finer than anything I'd ever held before.

"Come along Morgana." Called King Uther. She rode off into the palace gates, and I headed home.

I heard nothing of her for two years. I went on with my daily living. I played with some of the children and I had friends. All was well.

That year the plague came. It claimed many children, some of them my friends. It spared no one. People sickened and died; my dear aunt included. After her body was gone, my uncle took me in his arms.

"You're all I've got now Gwen. You are like my daughter. I could not love you more if you were."

I hugged him. "You are my father." I said into his shoulder. "And I am your daughter." I called him father from then on, and I saw his face light up every time I said it. We made our way through the sorrow, slowly, but we survived.

The plague brought much sorrow, but it also brought a blessing. When the plague passed word said that Lady Morgana's maid had caught plague and died. She was in need of a new servant. She sent for me! She remembered me! "Guinevere the village girl." She called me. I went to the castle, I became her serving girl.

To tell the truth, Morgana had a nurse; I didn't have any real duties. We played together, as equals in both our eyes. I called her Morgana, Morgie, as she insisted. We would play Knight and Princess, a game that Morgana came up with. I was the fair princess and she was the knight who rode to my rescue and saved me from the fiery dragon. She insisted that it was only right that I wear one of her dresses if I was the princess; she stole the tiny set of armour made for Arthur and wore it. I had to sit at her looking glass while she battled her dragon.

Once, just before Morgana made her entrance, the king himself stalked in. "Morgana! We are having a banquet in honour of Arthur's birthday; I want you to present his gift..." He trailed off, realising that the girl before him was not the Lady Morgana, but her servant.

"Where is Lady Morgana?" He roared at me. "Why are you wearing her clothes? What have you done with her, you evil little-?"

"Uther? What are you doing?" Morgana pulled off Arthur's helmet as she stepped into the room. The king looked from her to me, taking in the scene. Her long hair fell into her face; the tie had come undone.

"Morgana. Servants do not wear ones clothes. Servants do are there to serve you. They are not equals. They are servants. And give Arthur his armour back."

He turned to me. "Take those off- they are too fine for you." Then he left. I rose and began stripping off Morgana's beautiful dress. After I had pulled mine back on, noticing the difference in the texture, the color, the quality of the fabric, I curtseyed. Morgana had sat on her bed, still in Arthur's armour.

"Forgive me milady." I said to the floor. "But we should not have done that. You are a lady. I am your servant."

"Gwen!" She said, crossing the room. "You may be my servant, and it may not be allowed for you to wear my clothes, or even play with me, but you are my best friend. I would die for you." She swept me into a tight hug, armour and all, and then pulled away. "I, Lady Morgana of Camelot, solemnly swear that Guinevere is my truest and greatest friend, and will be for all time. I will go to the death for her." She had her right hand raised in the air. Wryly I wondered where she had gotten this new method of silliness.

She was looking expectantly at me so I raised my hand and repeated her. "I, Guinevere, solemnly swear that Morgana is my truest and greatest friend, and will be for all time. I will go to the death for her."

Morgana hugged me again.

"Now, let's get ready for that banquet." She said as I wondered if she really was only seven.

Morgana insisted I come to the banquet; she would need her maid, what if her hair fell down? She asked innocently, but with a wink. I stood by the wall, hidden behind a pillar. I watched, curious to see the boy who shared my birthday. When everyone was seated around the huge table, Arthur entered and sat, to the right of the king. On the king's left was Morgana. She caught my eye and smiled. I focused on Arthur again.

He was splendid, all in red and gold, with straw coloured hair and blue, blue eyes. Already he had the build for a knight, strong and with broad shoulders. He caught be looking at him and gave me a strange look. _Why are you here?_ His eyes asked. I flicked my eyes to Morgana who giggled merrily. Then I looked away. The banquet began, full of dishes of delicacy. The smells made my stomach rumble. It was like torture for me to stand through all eight courses, one for every year of Arthur's life. Then I remembered. Today would be my birthday too.

After the eating there was a presentation. Everyone stood during this. Arthur stood on the raised floor where the throne's sat, nervously. Morgana walked forward, one pace at a time, her long train dragging behind her. In her hands was a scabbard, and in the scabbard was a magnificent sword. To my nine year old mind it seemed foolish to have such a ceremony for a present, but it was splendid. The young prince drew the sword from the scabbard and swung it around experimentally. It wasn't a full length sword, he wouldn't be able to lift one of those, I knew. It was a shorter, thinner blade, still sharp and potentially deadly. I knew that I would have to talk Morgana out of "borrowing" it in the future.

That night Morgana begged me to stay; she was up to something I knew it. She had that dangerous gleam in her eye. "Please!" I countered. "If His Majesty finds out about whatever you're planning I will be in such trouble. Maybe I won't be able to be your maid anymore!" I played my desperate card.

Morgana considered a moment. "He won't find out." She said with conviction.

I ran home to tell father I would stay, he was worried. "Be careful. Lady Morgana sounds like a mischievous girl." He said, but he let me stay.

I waited in an old room, unused and dusty. Huddled in a tattered cloak I shivered. "Who's there?" a scared voice asked. I stepped into the sliver of moonlight. "Oh," said the voice with obvious relief. "You're Lady Morgana's maid, aren't you?"

"Guinevere. My name is Guinevere."

"Very well, Guinevere. My name is Arthur." He stepped into the moonlight also. It gleamed off his golden hair. "What are you doing here?" He asked.

"Morgana told me to wait here, Sire."

"She told me the same. I wonder what she's up to." He hesitated a moment before correcting me. "Tonight my name is just Arthur."

"Happy Birthday." It slipped out before I could stop it.

His voice was surprised in the dark. "Thank you."

"It is my birthday too you know."

"Really." He actually sounded interested. I told him the story of my birth. He sighed in the dark. "You're lucky. I don't know anything about my birth, or my mother."

"Why don't you ask your father?" I asked curiously. Surely his father would want Arthur to know.

"All I know is that Gaius, the physician, was there. My father doesn't like to talk about my mother. He misses her I think." He sounded woeful.

I sat down. "Well, it was a starry night, unnaturally warm." I heard him sit down across from me. "Your mother was beautiful. She had long black hair, longer than Morgana's. Her eyes were blue, like yours, the same color as the midsummer sky. Her skin was pale as the moon. When Gaise put you in her arms she smiled a smile that lit up the world. " 'Arthur.' She said. 'I will call this beautiful'-"

"Handsome." Arthur put in automatically.

" 'I will call this _handsome_ baby boy Arthur.' And then she fell ill with a terrible disease, and gave her life for the crown prince of Camelot."

"That was beautiful Gwen." Said a voice from the dark. "Remind me to get you to tell me more stories."

"Morgana!" cried Arthur, jumping to his feet. "What are you planning?"

"We are going to celebrate your birthday,_ our_ way." She replied. I could almost hear her grinning.

"You mean your way." I grumbled Arthur laughed as we left the room and Morgana shushed him. She led us down the hall, down stairs, a lot of stairs. We went all the way down to the dungeons.

"Morgana!" Arthur hissed. "We're not supposed to be here!" He stumbled.

"Stop being a sissy, Art. Let's go."

We followed her to a gate that was heavily locked. I was about to ask how we were getting in when Morgana produced a key. The thrill of adventure had filled me as she pulled open the gate and led us down, even deeper then the dungeons. The slope was uneven and I stumbled. Arthur caught me.

"Thanks, Art." I said teasing him.

"No problem Guinevere." He countered. I smiled.

"Be quiet, both of you!" Morgana muttered. We went down until it was so dark we couldn't see.

"Didn't even think to bring a torch?" asked Arthur. Morgana ignored him. We went around a turn and the world exploded in light. To my child's eyes it looked as though there were mountains, huge mounds of rocks rising up from the floor.

"Awesome!" Shouted Arthur as he began to make his way down to the ground. His voice echoed off the falls.

Morgana grabbed the back of his shirt. "Wait."

I looked about for the source of the light. I monstrous shape dropped before me, landing on one of the mountains. "Looking for me?" It asked.

Instinctively I grabbed Arthur. One of his arms went around me, pulling me closer. He was trembling just as much as I was, but he raised his sword, his birthday present, before him. "You, dragon. I demand to know what you are doing beneath my castle." He inquired.

"Your castle?" Asked the dragon.

"I am Prince Arthur. This is my castle."

"Your father imprisoned me here. Ahhhh...you have a great destiny before you. A great destiny." It sighed.

"My father? My father wouldn't do this. You lie. What was that about my destiny?" But the dragon was flying off. I now saw the chain around its massive foot. "Wait! Come back!" Arthur called. "I command you!" The dragon ignored him and flew off.

"What was that all about?" I asked. Arthur withdrew his arm, lowering his sword.

"I have no idea." He replied. There were shouts from above, people moving. My heart froze in my chest as we all looked at each other.

"Run!" Said Morgana. So we did.

We stuck around the guards and back to Morgana's room. "That was a close one." She said, grinning.

"A close one? You almost got us caught!" retorted Arthur, furious at her excitement.

"_I _almost got us caught? I wasn't the one who was yelling at the dragon."

"You knew it was there? And you took us? It could have been dangerous!"

"I knew I had you to protect me." She fluttered her lashes at him, teasingly.

"Stop it! Did you think about Gwen? Father might just have confined you to your room for a week, but he would put her in jail!"

"Gwen wanted to come, didn't you Gwen?"

I had barely nodded when Arthur spoke again. "You girls are all the same!" He began to storm out of the room, disgusted.

I put my hand on his arm. "Good night Arthur." I whispered. He turned to me.

"Good night Gwen." Then he left.

Little did I know as I was walking home that night, exhausted, that this was just the beginning.

More adventures were to come with Morgana and Arthur.


	2. Chapter 2

Sunlight filtered through the canopy of leaves above the small clearing where we played. Morgana, Arthur and I raced around on the grass and beds of leaves, watched by a seemingly humourless pair of guards. Arthur, in full armour, jumped over a log, shouting as he duelled and invisible enemy.

"Take that, sorcerer!" He yelled. "I will vanquish you, in the name of my father, King Uther! Magic is evil, and so are you!" _Harsh words for a __little boy._ I thought as Arthur landed the final blow. He laughed with the joy of a child.

"Come one Gwen, play with me. I have to save you from the evil sorcerer!" Arthur pleaded for me to join his game. Morgana stood by Arthur's side using a stick for her sword, since Uther had forbidden her to have one.

"_We_ have to save you from the evil sorcerer." Morgana glared at the prince. It was an ongoing war between the two of them as Arthur believed that girl's were meant to read and sew and embroider, not fight.

"I told you, you should be the princess because you're a girl. Girl's can't fight bad guys."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah."

Morgana drew herself to full height, her entire 10 year old frame nearly as tall as Arthur. "I challenge you to a duel, Arthur Pendragon. Prove that girl's can't fight."

Arthur was flabbergasted. "I can't fight a _girl_." He replied. He twirled his small sword in circles, the same one he had received 2 years before at his birthday ceremony.

"You scared to fight me, Arthur?" She taunted him, poking her stick in his stomach. He flinched.

"I am not scared. Fine, I'll fight you. If I win-"

"You won't." Morgana interrupted confidently.

He glared at her. "If I win, you admit that girls belong inside the castle and leave the fighting to me."

She scowled angrily. "And _when_ I win, you'll admit that girl's can fight, and let me use your sword and armour for a week."

"But father said-" She cut him off.

"Deal?"

"Deal." The reply was made grudgingly, and they shook hands. "You be the judge Gwen." I nodded. I knew that neither of them really knew how to fight, because the closest they had gotten to training was hanging out around the yards where the knight's practiced. Arthur picked up a stick to make the duel fair and without warning, Morgana lunged. Arthur jumped back, surprised. Then he swung wildly for her shoulder. She stepped out of the way. They continued on like this for a few more minute, mostly avoiding each other's strike. Finally Morgana got a lucky hit, smacking his fingers hard enough to make him yelp and drop his "sword".

"I won, I won!" She danced around the clearing much to the amusement of our guards.

"I let you win." He said sullenly, rubbing his knuckles. Morgana raced off toward the castle, anxious to share her victory with anyone who would listen. Arthur grumbled after her kicking at tufts of wild flowers that peeked out of the ground. Clearly he was upset about his loss.

"Arthur." He turned to me, glaring. I spoke quietly so no one would hear me. "Come on, I know you let her win. This way, she'll stop bothering you about borrowing your things as much. She's just a kid." I conveniently forgot the fact that she was only a year younger than us.

His face brightened. "Yeah, you're right. And I _did_ let her win." He picked one of the flowers that hadn't been mangled by his foot. "Here." He put it behind my ear, then turned red and ran after Morgana. I touched the flower. Then it occurred to me that maybe he was so upset because he wanted to impress me. I brushed the thought away. What would the Crown Price want with a servant?


	3. Chapter 3

That summer we turned 10, and I saw Arthur no more. He spent day in and day out as a page, training to be a knight. Morgana and I still played together as we had before Arthur joined us, but I had become so used to his presence, I missed him. I only saw him around the castle, looking tired but proud. In fact, the only time I spoke to him for more than a moment that year was our next birthday. Morgana dragged us to a room, long after all the adults had drunk themselves silly, to celebrate our birthday.

He was there first, waiting for us. Morgana had run off to get some "supplies", which worried me. I entered and closed the door behind me, wincing as it creaked. "Gwen?" he asked.

"Hey, Art." I replied, not really paying attention because I was still worrying about what Morgana was planning.

"I-um...I have a present for you Gwen. Happy Birthday." He said shyly.

I blinked in surprise. I hadn't even gotten a present for him, the crown prince, and he had one for me? All thoughts of Morgana's screams were driven out of my head. "Oh...I can't possibly accept it! I mean, I want to, but it wouldn't be proper, and I didn't get you anything. Not that I didn't, if I thought about it. I just forgot. Not your birthday, had I just ever thought to get you one-"

He cut me off, sounding amused. "Gwen, it's alright that you didn't get me one. Here, take it." He handed me a little package, clumsily wrapped with parchment and string. I untied it and before me lay a beautiful locket.

"Arthur, this is far too expensive. You shouldn't be giving it to a servant..." I trailed off, holding it up to catch the moonlight. It was a silver heart on a silver chain, engraved with vines around the edges. It opened to a small place where you could put a miniature portrait of someone (not that I would have enough money to have one made) or a lock of your lover's hair, something the ladies of the court did.

"I'm not giving it to a servant, I'm giving it to a friend." He said gently. He sounded much older than the eleven year old boy he was. I wanted to refuse, but I couldn't. It was too beautiful, and he wanted me to have it anyway.

"Thank you." I whispered. He fastened it around my chest and it gleamed against my humble clothes. Then Morgana came in.

"Oh, that's lovely, Gwen. " She said, setting a bundle on the stone floor. "Come, help me set these up." Obligingly I untied her bag and began placing things on the floor. Three candles, a portrait, a ruby pendant, and a book.

"What are these for Morgie?" I asked, fearing the worst. We had heard some maids talking the other day, and I was worried that Morgana would attempt what they were discussing. I was right.

"Remember those serving girls we heard, Gwen? Well, we are going to try to call Arthur's mother back from the dead so he can meet her." She was obviously proud and misunderstood the reason for mine and Arthur's gasps. "It is easiest to contact the dead on the night they died, that's what they said." She continued until Arthur recovered from his horror.

"Morgana! My father has forbidden magic!" He echoed my thoughts exactly.

"This isn't magic, it's just-" Morgana tried to defend herself, but I was on Arthur's side.

"I would be killed! Besides, it's not natural for the dead to come back. What if Arthur doesn't _want_ to meet his mother?"

She scoffed at me. "Of course he wants to meet his mother. Who wouldn't? Besides, Uther wouldn't kill you, he knows how much you mean to me."

"I'm going to bed. I have early training in the morning. When you're done your childish games, let me know. Good-night Gwen." He stormed from the room. Morgana, insulted, stomped off also, leaving me to clean up her things.

"Happy Birthday, Arthur." I whispered to the dark. I picked up the objects and fled.


	4. Chapter 4

The year we turned twelve Morgana and I rarely saw Arthur anymore. To tell the truth, without Arthur to keep us at bay, we ran about the castle like wild things. Morgana convinced me to participate in mischeif, resulting in some close calls and many baffled servants. I remember when we snuck into the kitchen pantrys and rearranged all the preserves. Then we stole some of Cook's fresh baked pastries and ran away giggling.

That winter, just after Morgana turned eleven, she fell ill with scarlet fever. I was terrified that she would die, even though Gaise, the physician said her life was in no danger. To loose Morgana would be like loosing family, like loosing a sister. I sat up long nights with Gaise, releaving him when he grew tierd. "You might just make a good docter some day." He smiled at me as I dabbed her forehead with a wet cloth. I grinned back, proud that he trusted me to take care of m'lady. Then, due to my long hours and Morgana's catching sickness, I fell ill with the same ailment. By this time Morgana was well enough to eat and sit up in bed.

I am told that I was even sicker the her, and that she insisted that another bed be put in her room for me to lie in. She commanded Gaise to tend to me as well as her, and even Arthur begged his training master to allow him to visit me. When I found this out I was secretly pleased, though I took great care not to show it. Morgana teased me enough about Arthur's attentions. When I grew better, I took to watching him practice out the castle windows. My father was allowed to come and go to see me when I was ill, and I was glad of this. Who would take care of him if I died? Who would make his luch and keep the house tidy?

When I was still sick I would secretly take out my locket and hold it. It was dented slightly from wear, even though I tried to keep it safe. Morgana had gone out to visit one of the ladies and I was sitting her bed, thinking about Arthur. I had begun to notice him more lately, how his eyes were the same color as the sky, and how his knight training had given him new muscles that made him kind of...attractive.

I was just remembering his golden hair when Uthur barged in. He stared at me sitting in Morgana's bed, much as the same as he had stared at me all those years ago, when he had found me in Morgana's clothes. He opened his mouth, then closed it. His cheeks that had been red in anger a moment before turned pale, pale as a ghost. He looked at the trinket I held in my hand with a forlorn, lost look that turned back to absolute, terrifing , white lipped rage.

"Where did you get that necklace." He asked in a calm voice which was almost scarier then his yelling.

"Prince Arthur gave it to me, sire." I bowed my head respectfully, as I was still too sick to stand and curtsey. I was dimly aware that I was in my nightgown when his voice lashed out like a whip.

"Liar! That is-was- the Queen's necklace. I gave it to her. You stole it, didn't you! You little witch! You STOLE IGRANE'S LOCKET! HOW _DARE _YOU?" He strode toword me and ripped the small heart from my hands. I wimpered, for Arthur had given it to me and that made it precious. He grabbed my arm and dragged me from Morgana's bed. "And you dare to lay in the bed of royalty? You are dismissed; don't let me see your face in my halls again!" He threw me onto the floor and left, clutching the locket so tight his knuckles were white. I lay on the cool floor for a moment, to tierd to do anything else. Then I dragged myself to my feet and stumbled out the door and down the hall. I was dizzy, and I barely felt the pain of falling down. I did fall down, or so they tell me, down a flight of sixteen stair. I don't remember. I think I fell asleep.

According to Gaise, one of the maids found me there and called for him. He brought me to his quarters and tended me for a concussion and broken arm, plus many brusies besides. Morgana came running in when she found me gone from her chambers and pestered the maids until they told her where I was. She burst in, her cheeks rosy from sprinting (or so I imagine). She knelt by me and held my hand; refused to speak to Uthur until he apologized. Arthur admitted that he had taken his mother's necklace and given it to me, and although His Magesty did not apologize, he did reinstate me to my place as Morgana's maid, as soon as I was well. This satisfied Morgana, and soon she was as light hearted as she always was.

Spring passed; summer came and along with it my thirteenth birthday. My father gave me a new dress; the castle gave me new chores. My role as Morgana's companian and playmate ceased, and I began bringing meals, washing clothes, cleaning her room and doing other jobs around the castle. My days stealing from the cook were over and my time of washing bedclothes had begun.

In truth, Morgana grew up some too. She needed me for a playmate less and I could be her playmate less. All was well, until that fall.


	5. Chapter 5

I remember it well. It was the night of All-Hallows-Eve, a holiday forbidden by King Uther because it promoted magic and spirits and things. Morgana insisted that we tell every ghost story we knew, and even a few she made up. It was late; the moon could be seen through the window. I was too spooked to walk home so Morgana invited me to stay. I did stay with her often, so my father would understand if I didn't come home.

I was just about asleep on my side of her huge bed when she began wiggling. "Morgana!" I hissed, certain she was just being annoying. "Go to sleep!"

She mumbled something and I realised that she was asleep. Sitting up, I looked over to see her thrusting around, her eyelids fluttering erratically. She was having a nightmare so I tried to wake her up. I called her name, shook her shoulders, and threatened to get a pail of water. Worried, I slapped her. Still, she did not wake. Finally she stilled, drenched in sweat, and woke.

"Gwen, oh Gwen." She cried, tears running down her face. "Oh Gwen, it was awful. There was this man, and he was being burned alive. Uther stood there looking on, and Arthur too. He was screaming, oh his screams..." She hiccupped and buried her face in my shoulder, too distraught to continue.

"Shh...shhh...It was just a dream Morgie. Just a dream." I crooned to her and rocked her until she fell asleep. She spent the rest of the night peacefully, although I did not. She had scared me, even though I knew it was only a nightmare. I rose at dawn to go to my work, having not slept a wink.

Then next week and man was convicted of sorcery. He was burned at stake, and Uther made Arthur watch to show him what must be done to those who use magic. It was terrible, and Morgana had to be there to, which meant me also. When it was over and we were going back to her rooms she kept whispering to me. "That was my dream, Gwen. That's exactly what it looked like in my dream."

Needless to say, I spent another couple of sleepless nights, pondering this very thing.

After Christmas Morgana turned twelve, and had more dreams, all of which came true. She finally implored me to go to Gaius for a sleeping potion which helped some. She no longer woke drenched with sweat, fearing sleep, or what was to come. We passed another year.


	6. Chapter 6

In my fifteenth year a boy named Sam moved in down our street. His father had grown up with my father, and so introduced us to each other. He was tall, dark and quiet, a true romantic. He brought me flowers; I baked him a muffin ripe with fruit. We were friends, and then we were more than friends. We shared picnics in the meadows and star gazed at night.

We were on one such picnic when a rider happened upon us. Truly he looked dashing, as different from Sam's dark looks as night and day. Sam was quiet, modest, and sweet, and Ar-ahem, the rider- was loud, proud, and more interested in swords and battles then love. When I think back on it, he may not have been thinking of swords, at least not on this particular day.

"Guinevere, who is this?" He asked stiffly, taking in our joined hands and happy faces.

"This is Sam, my-friend." He (Arthur) was acting odd, but I was too happy to see the jealousy that flitted across his face.

"Uh huh. And what does your father do, Sam?" He said his name as if it was an insult making my frown in annoyance.

Sam smiled shyly. Arthur didn't have on any distinguishing articles, and I hadn't called him by his name, so Sam assumed that he was just another commoner, and was asking out of pure curiosity. "He is a carpenter. That's my name, Sam Carpenter."

"Well, Sam Carpenter, my name is Arthur Pendragon," Arthur sneered watching as Sam's face paled. "And my father is the king. I daresay you know what he does."

"Yes sire. Forgive me sire, I did not know it was you I was speaking to." Sam bowed his head respectfully, and missed my glare at Arthur. I didn't know what had gotten into him, but I didn't like it.

"You're needed at the castle Gwen." He turned and rode off, leaving me angry and Sam bewildered.

"You know him?" He asked. I explained that I was a childhood friend, but that we had grown apart in recent years. He accepted the answer with grace.

I smiled at him sadly. "I have to go, Morgana needs me." He nodded and headed back to his father's shop as I ran to the palace. Morgana was nowhere in sight in her room, but Arthur stood in the center, wringing his hands and looking out of place among the draperies and ribbons.

"Gwen I-"

I strode in and jabbed him in the chest with my finger. "How dare you! You think you can just barge in and ruin my afternoon! You arrogant pig! I don't care if you're the prince, you can still treat people with respect!" His face had gone from apologetic, to shocked, to hard. My mind was telling me to stop, apologize, correct myself, but my heart was too angry to care.

"You are lucky you are my friend, Gwen, or else I would have you in the stocks." He strutted out angrily, and some dim part of my mind recognized how handsome he looked when he was upset. I crushed that part of me viciously, and made a point of avoiding Arthur for the next week. I asked other maids to take care of his laundry, and bring his food.

In the end, it all worked out. Sam and I grew apart and Arthur and I apologized. Morgana grew from a child to a lady in the blink of an eye. We passed another year.


	7. Chapter 7

On the eve of our eighteenth birthday, as the sun set on the castle of Camelot, Crown Prince Arthur Pendragon was knighted. I was so proud of him, and Morgana was too, although she pretended not to be. He truly looked magnificent, gold hair flaming, blue eyes sparked with pride. He wore full armour that gleamed in the fading sun, and as his father brought his sword down on his shoulders, there was a flash as the light caught the blade.

"Rise, Sir Arthur, and take up your shield. Bare it proudly, son." Uther said solemnly, but I could detect the emotion in his voice, a mixture of bitterness and pride. As much as I disliked him, I felt a stab of pity. It must be awful to celebrate his son's birthday every year and mourn his deceased wife on the same day. It was easier for me, because I hadn't known my mother or my father. I shook myself awake and handed Morgana Arthur's shield, which she formally presented to Arthur.

It was red with a golden lion and it too shone, though it couldn't compare with the pride shinning in Arthurs face. He flashed me a smile and I grinned back. He hardly looked like the little boy I had grown up knowing.

That night there was a celebration in Arthur's honour. Uther retreated early, and (so the maids say) drunk himself stupid in the privacy of his chambers. Morgana looked gorgeous, her hair pinned up and she had insisted I use some face paint on her lips. She and Arthur danced, as was expected of them, but I could see His Highness looking over at me. Finally Morgana tired and we left. When we were in the safety of her room, she began spinning around and laughing.

"What are you doing Morgana?" I asked, because when she acted like this she usually had either stolen some liquor or had something insane planned. It turned out to be both.

"We are going to ride in the haunted woods tonight, all the way to the ruins of Scarlen Hall!" She replied as she fell onto her bed.

"No. Absolutely not. You're crazy."

She pouted at me. "I'm going, whether you come or not. Besides, Arthur is a knight and he'll protect us." Still I hesitated, but she really would go without me, and probably get in more trouble.

"Fine. When is Arthur coming?" There was a knock on the door and Arthur entered. "You're actually going along with this?" I asked him with raised eyebrows. He grinned.

"We can't very well stop her." I shrugged in agreement.

It was dark and there was a most autumn-like chill in the air. We rode through a dark forest that was rumoured to be haunted, and even sensible as I am, I jumped at every noise. I caught Arthur even flinching, though if you ask him he'll deny it. Morgana was the only one of us who was comfortable, but she was probably faking. When we finally emerged, we all breathed a sigh of relief.

Ahead of us towered the ruins of Scarlen Hall. Stories said that a great king lived there once, but he was greedy and bloodthirsty, eventually beheading all his servants and family, then finally going insane and jumping off of his balcony. The place must be ridden with ghosts, yet Morgana insisted we ride right up in.

Something yowled to our left. To me it sounded like an unhappy spirit's scream, but after cowering a moment, Morgana dismissed it. "Just a cat." She said with a brave certainty.

Stone walls rose above us, and the horses almost tripped on the ruined streets until we dismounted. Morgana strode forward eagerly, leaving Arthur and I to follow. I reached out a gripped his hand. He was surprised, but squeezed it back. Through the dark halls Morgana walked. I was terrified, but things like this just didn't scare her. They still don't.

Suddenly a shadow jumped out at us. "What are ye' doing here!" We all screamed, even Arthur, who will still deny it. Then we all laughed, with relief, because when our 'ghost' stepped into the moonlight it was just a bum with no teeth. Then we grew weary again. One doesn't let their guard down when meeting a stranger in the dark, in a place where no one is supposed to live. _Except the dead._ My mind whispered. I shivered.

Arthur stepped forward with his sword out, making up for his unmanly scream. "What is your business here?" He asked in his most regal voice.

The old man cackled. "I could ask you the same, Pendragon boy."

Arthur froze. "How do you know my name?"

"I know more about you than your name laddie." One eye rolled over to look at me, while the other gazed at the moon or something. I took a step back. "You and her." A gnarled finger pointed at me. "Ahh, the future will be sweet, but you have yet to meet the other side of your coin. Your destiny awaits, young Arthur." He disappeared.

Once we got over the initial shock of having him just vanish, Arthur began grumbling. "That's the second time that someone has told me of this supposed destiny on one of our outings." It was true, I remembered, back on the night we first met. "I'll have to tell my father of him; no one can just disappear like that except a sorcerer."

Morgana spoke up. "No Arthur! He will find out we've come here! We will be in such trouble!" Reluctantly Arthur agreed not to tell Uther, and we left. We returned home just before dawn, and while Morgana could sleep late, Arthur and I had to be up early, him for his training (which continued even after he was knighted) and me for my work.

As he bade us goodnight, he held me back, wishing to speak to me alone. "I don't know what that sorcerer meant by you being part of my destiny, but I swear, if any harm comes to you because of him, I will hunt him down and make him pay." I was touched, even if the fierceness in his voice scared me a little.

On impulse, I kissed his cheek. "I know you will." _It was just a sisterly kiss, nothing more._ I told myself for days after. Truly, seeing how things have turned out, I'm not so sure now.


	8. Chapter 8

The June before I was to turn 21 that is when the story really began. I was no longer a child, but a woman. Morgana too had grown up. She was not the pleasant faced, mischievous little girl she had been. She now saw the dark side of the world, of Uther and his laws, and as much as I wanted to protect her from it, she was just not the child I could rock back to sleep after a nightmare.

We were joined by a boy, man, really, named Merlin, who became one of our greatest friends. He says he's told you the story, though, starting when he came in. I just thought that, maybe, you might want to know who we were before our lives changed.

Love,

Queen Guinevere Pendragon


End file.
